Behind a locked door
by MissRachie
Summary: Behind a locked door, away from everything, they can drop the facade and just live in the moment. /A Zemyx (a "69") one-shot.


**Title**: Behind a locked door  
**Character**(**s**): Demyx (number IX), Zexion (number VI)  
**Pairing**: Zemyx  
**Rating**: M, to be safe  
**Language**: English  
**Genre**: Romance  
**Length**: 655 words  
**Type**: One-shot/Drabble  
**Summary**: Behind a locked door, away from everything, they can drop the facade and just live in the moment. /A Zemyx (a "69") one-shot.  
**Author's note**(**s**): No speech what so ever, but I hope that you will all enjoy it either way. Yaoi = BoyxBoy. Don't like it? Don't bother reading it, please.

* * *

It was just like any other day. Neither Zexion nor Demyx had done anything out of the ordinary. It was nearing the late hours of the day, when Zexion finally came to the room he shared with Demyx. It was really his room, but Demyx had declared that they should share, since they were, unofficially a couple.

Grabbing a black, leather bound book, he made his way onto the bed, lying on his side. He knew that within just a few minutes, the bed would shift as the weight of a body inched closer to his. And he was correct.

Demyx, slightly tired, but happy to see Zexion, slid his arm to rest securely around the other's waist. He gently tugged him closer, fitting Zexion's back to his chest. Just for a few minutes, they remained in that position. Enjoying the warmth they shared with their bodies pressed together.

And then, Zexion felt the searching hand, Demyx' arm having left his waist. It caressed what was exposed of the shorter male's neck and with the book still open, Zexion shut his eyes. A sigh left his lips, not making a sound even as Demyx leaned in to let his lips touch the crook of his neck. It made him shudder. And his fingers lightly flipped page in the book as he opened his eyes.

The silence didn't bother either of them. And both could feel the tension rising in the air, sensual and thick. From mere kisses. Believe what you may about Zexion and Demyx as people, or rather Nobodies, but the way both men enjoyed each other was more passionate and intimate than you'd ever imagine.

Demyx' hand slid down Zexion's arm, scraping his teeth over the spot he just kissed, watching the somewhat unsteady rising of the other's chest while breathing. The brunette knew that with a light nibble, he'd have the other under his power. So, with a whisper of Zexion's name, he nibbled the spot, listening after the hiss, short, sharp, low and when met by it, he smiled against the skin, kissing it again.

Zexion's book fell to the floor. He decided that it was not as good as he had hoped before he turned around, rather stiff to the expression, apart from his eyes. He briefly nuzzled his nose into the crook of Demyx' neck, inhaling the other's sweet, but manly scent.

Then, finally, their lips met.

Sweet, loving kisses at first. Turning passionate within minutes. Teeth clashing, tongues dancing and the occasional nose bumping, their arms wrapped tightly around the other.

The small moans, keening noises that left their lips in between heated kisses was enough to have pale hands searching for fabric to get rid of.

Black cloaks discarded onto the floor, followed by shirts, black pants, the light creaking of the bed not enough to wake any kind of suspicion or interest by any who walked by the closed door. Demyx had locked it. One could never be too sure in the huge castle.

It was like a dance, professional and strong. They both knew what to do. Demyx took the upper hand, leading Zexion and soon had the steel blue haired male panting and giving inaudible moans. Demyx knew the other's body like the back of his hand. And he knew exactly what the other liked and what made him arch his back like a strung bow.

They were, without a doubt, made for each other. But it was behind closed doors that it really showed. And it was Demyx, and Demyx only who could make Zexion cry out his lover's name when releasing from the pure pleasure given to him. Demyx was proud, each and every time that he successfully drew his name from the shorter male. He had, indeed, found something he was good at. And he was well aware of it.


End file.
